


Things We Said

by FaultyParagon



Series: Canon-Compliant/Canon-Rooted RWBY Fics [16]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Qrow Branwen, Clover Ebi-centric, Clover is a fanboy, Drinking to Cope, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gay Clover Ebi, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Memories, Mentioned Summer Rose (RWBY), Pining, Recovery, Reminiscing, Requited Unrequited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Tension, Team STRQs backstory, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Volume 7 (RWBY), fair game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 18,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: Qrow never wanted to be a Huntsman- but when Raven started insisting that they enroll in Beacon to learn to HUNT Huntsmen, Qrow decided to play along. He certainly wasn’t expecting to gain a true family...Then again, he wasn't looking for love, either. He still managed to find Clover after all those years of fighting alone, after all. And now that they're together, Clover is willing to hear everything Qrow has to say.-A look at Team STRQ’s journey through Beacon, told to Clover in late-night chats. Set in V7.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen & Summer Rose & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, Raven Branwen/Taiyang Xiao Long, Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Series: Canon-Compliant/Canon-Rooted RWBY Fics [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815229
Comments: 192
Kudos: 111





	1. at 1 AM

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea for over a year now, but I couldn’t figure out how to frame it until now. The original idea for the prompts were found online, plus a few extra which were added by me. These will be short snippets, so expect little blurbs anywhere between 200-500 words.
> 
> Let me know if you’re interested in seeing more!

**…at 1 AM**

Clover had offered to sit down and chat with Qrow more out of curiosity than anything. After working multiple missions with the enigmatic, grizzled Huntsman, Clover was still no further along his secret quest to get to know him. Qrow just didn’t like talking about himself on the job.

Which, in reality, was quite inconvenient, considering Clover had secretly been idolizing Qrow Branwen for the last twenty years. Qrow didn’t know that, though.

Either way, Clover hadn’t expected _this_.

Qrow sighed, mouth twisted into an angry snarl, leaning back into his chair. There was a bitterness hanging about him, one that couldn’t be assuaged by any smile or touch. Clover had tried, only to be pushed away.

So why was Qrow sitting with him? And _now,_ of all times, weeks after Clover had begun his advances?

“You know we have briefings at 0700 tomorrow, right?” He kept his voice mild, too worried to try and flirt like usual. It was well past midnight, and they had just come back from a long mission. What had set Qrow off like this?

Qrow didn’t respond, instead focusing on pulling out a small scrap of paper from his pocket. Using the moonlight, Qrow stared deeply at the paper, running rough fingers tenderly over it.

Clover gulped, leaning forward, taking a peek. He felt his breath catch in his throat, taking in four faintly familiar figures in the photograph lying in Qrow’s hands.

“You ever hear of Team STRQ, Mr. Good-luck-charm?” Qrow rasped at last.

Mutely, Clover nodded.

Qrow’s lips quirked up into a humourless smile, regret emanating from every pore. Clover could only watch, clenching his jaw as Qrow finally looked at him, those brilliant crimson eyes shining with haunted, unshed tears. “They’re proof that not all of us are so damn lucky.”


	2. through our teeth

**…through our teeth**

Clover spent that night lying awake upon his bed, staring at the vaulted ceiling, mind racing. He couldn't sleep- how could he? Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was that photograph in Qrow's hands. The elder had flashed it for only a moment before tucking it away, but that moment had been all Clover needed. He couldn't ever forget Team STRQ, after all.

He could still remember watching the Vytal Festival on the CCTS just over twenty years ago, perched on his family's ratty couch and ready to see Atlas reign supreme in the tournament. There had been a home team from Atlas that was supposed to have been the projected winners, and he had been more than ready to see his kingdom take home the trophy.

And yet, instead of Atlas' team ( _What was their name?_ He just couldn't remember) it was Team STRQ of Beacon who had dominated for most of the tournament. Summer Rose, a flighty figure whose speed was only matched by her Aura manipulation; Taiyang Xiao Long, who spent more time being mocked by his teammates than actually landing blows on anyone, but was absolutely deadly when he grew serious; Raven Branwen, a blur of crimson and black, so precise and ruthless in her assault that he had had nightmares-

And Qrow Branwen.

Clover had always been jealous of those who had gotten to sit in the front row for Qrow's bouts. The young man, barely twenty at the time, had been smooth and suave and debonair, somehow managing to destroy the battlefield and still remain untouched at the end of every match. His hair had been darker then, face more vibrant, eyes shining brighter, smile more youthful, more seductive-

After seeing Qrow Branwen on his tiny holoscreen, winking at the camera as he defeated opponent after opponent, Clover had never been the same. Clover had wanted to be like Qrow.

No, that wasn't completely accurate. He had _wanted_ Qrow.

He still did.

Perhaps that was why Qrow's words in the mess hall earlier that night wouldn't leave his mind. "Raven wanted us to go to Beacon out of the blue," he had spat, mouth twisted into a contemptuous snarl. "We had to stay away from Haven, so we picked Beacon. Most similar climate to Mistral. Most similar Grimm. Most similar Huntsmen."

"…why did that matter?" The first two made sense, especially if they had grown up on Anima.

"Because," Qrow growled through gritted teeth, shoving the photograph back into his pocket, "we were good at killing Grimm. The Branwen Tribe was plenty good at killing the Grimm. What we weren't good at… was killing Huntsmen."

Clover couldn't breathe.

"Not yet, at least."


	3. too quietly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! More STRQ to come next time. Hope you enjoy!

**…too quietly**

Their mission clearing out the Grimm by Mantle’s wall would last them a few days on the ground. “Are you sure that it’s alright if we just camp out here for the night?” Qrow asked again, eyes shifting around wearily, alert and prepared for any danger that might come their way.

Clover nodded, placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “I’ve sent a message to James,” he replied. “My team has their own orders for the next few days, so there shouldn’t be any issue. If there are new updates, then we’ll be informed. However,” and he paused, raising up Kingfisher to slash at an incoming Creep Grimm, “it’ll be much faster to rest around here for the night rather than transiting back and forth.”

Qrow nodded silently at that assertion, leaping up lithely to a nearby ledge left in the wake of a torn-up section on the wall. Clover grinned, taking a moment to admire the older man’s figure. There was such grace in his movements- such ease in the way he alighted at the top of an icy beam.

But as those thoughts flittered through his mind, so too did thoughts of where that skill had come from. He hadn’t forgotten their conversation in the mess hall. “You’re used to camping out, huh?” he asked tentatively as he climbed up to meet Qrow.

The elder shrugged, tucking himself into a nook in the wall, laying his condensed sword onto his lap. In an instant, he had rations on his lap and a Dust-fueled heat generator set out in front of him. “I’m a Huntsmen. A _real_ one, not one of you pampered Atlas punks,” he drawled, all dry wit and stark humour.

Clover rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t feel authentic. How could it? “So you learned to do this at Beacon?”

Qrow laughed, shaking his head. “I learned a lot of things at Beacon,” he said airily. “It’s a school, for starters.”

“You know what I meant, you old crow,” Clover teased. After a moment, he added, “So… how _was_ Beacon? It’s clear that Ozpin was good at what he did- the rookies are nothing to sneeze at.” After a moment, he added, “Neither are you.”

And that was all it took for a shadow to fall upon Qrow’s face, the man withdrawing. He tucked his chin into his chest, crimson eyes floated over to the distance. Languidly, he drew his blade, flicked it into a gun, and shot down two Beowolves in the distance. Clover’s breath caught in his throat- he hadn’t even seen the two coming, their dark silhouettes blending in with the darkened sky.

The smoke from the barrel of Harbinger rose, curling upward and intermingling with the puff of air Qrow exhaled, fatigued and bitter. It danced in the frozen night air. Clover couldn’t look away.

He remained silent like that for a few minutes. Clover almost felt like he wasn’t going to respond, when Qrow finally muttered his answer, his heartbreak and nostalgia and regret clear in his words despite the fact that they were nothing more than a whisper. And, beyond those four words, Clover didn’t ask anything more, simply tucking himself into the opposite corner of their hiding place, eyes locked on Qrow when they really should’ve been focused on the expansive tundra beyond.

“It… was the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of it thus far!


	4. over the phone

**…over the phone**

“He always was bad at picking up his Scroll.”

Clover glanced up from the paperwork he was filling out. There were reports to fill after their recent stakeout of Mantle’s walls, so he had brought them to the officer’s mess after hours. At least there he’d be able to get a drink (non-alcoholic it may be while on the job) while he worked on mundane, pointless red tape.

To his surprise, Qrow decided to join him. The man rarely ventured into the officer’s mess. “Tryin’ to go dry,” Qrow always said when he turned down the chance to drink, so to see him actually join Clover in the mess was bizarre.

It was clear that Qrow still wasn’t interested in alcohol, however. Instead, his focus was trapped onto the Scroll in his hands; pressing an icon on the screen, lifting the Scroll to his ear, bringing the Scroll down methodically. With the other hand, he fidgeting with rings on his fingers, pulling them off and on, off and on, trying to find some sort of stability in the movement. Over and over and over again, the man repeated those actions, almost locked in a trance. After the fourth call attempt, Clover murmured carefully, “Scrolls still work in Atlas, but they won’t be able to reach outside Mantle-“

“Shut it.”

He was trying to contact someone. Clover wanted to ask more about the face on the screen. A handsome man, if not in a clumsy way- blond hair and goatee, bright blue eyes and an easygoing grin which Clover hadn’t seen for years. “…Taiyang, was it?”

Qrow hummed, trying yet again to contact the blond on his Scroll. Quietly, he mumbled through lips pressed tightly together, “Yeah. My old teammate. He’s Ruby and Yang’s father.”

Immediately, Clover felt his heart melt in relief. The blond wasn’t his lover- he must’ve been a brother, to be nothing more than an uncle to the girls of Team RWBY. “And the other two?”

Qrow’s thumb paused over the ‘call’ icon on the screen. “…Dead.”

Clover frowned. Based on Atlesian reports, Raven Branwen was still at large-

“Some more than others,” the elder added bitterly.

 _Ah._ “Still,” Clover said, “signals won’t reach him on Sanus- not from here.”

White teeth bit down upon a thin lower lip, blood rushing into it, leaving pale skin pink and flushed. Clover watched carefully while Qrow’s focused remained on his Scroll, on the voice which never appeared in his ear.

However, those teeth eventually began to chew through skin, so Clover reached out his hand and halted the umpteenth rise of the Scroll to Qrow’s ear. “Why are you trying to call him?” Clover said gently. “Did something happen?”

And then, he realized it. Slight tremors, tracing up his hand from where he touched the Scroll. Qrow shook. The elder’s crimson eyes closed, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I’ve been trying every day,” Qrow admitted with a small, bitter smile. “…He deserves to know his little girls made it to be Huntresses.”

“I don’t think he’d have any doubts,” Clover replied. “Ruby and Yang are both more than capable.”

Qrow sighed, leaning back into his chair. The Scroll in his hand slipped onto the table and Clover reached out, wrapping those empty fingers in his own. To his eternal comfort, Qrow didn’t pull away.

Eyes still closed, Qrow murmured, “I told you how my sister and I went to Beacon?”

Clover squeezed his hand, trying to still the ice which flooding his core when he thought back to Qrow’s confession. Yes, he knew why they had gone to Beacon. He just couldn’t believe it still. How could someone go to a Huntsman Academy only to learn to _kill_ Huntsmen?

A small, unpleasant smile curled Qrow’s lips, bitten and bruised. “We always used to joke that Tai’d drop out first. He was such an idiot. Raven absolutely _hated_ being partnered with him at first.”

“Really?”

Qrow rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the mere memory. “The idiot fell in front of me right before I found her and made eye contact with her first. We tried to play it off, pretend he was the odd one out, but Oz had his cameras around. Tai almost got eaten by a Death Stalker and Rae had to save him, but then Rae tried to fight Oz during initiation when he insisted they stay partnered.”

Clover chuckled, picturing the striking team he had watched on the CCTS so long ago acting in such a ridiculous manner. It was hard to even imagine, seeing how flawless their teamwork had been in the Vytal Festival.

Qrow’s smile slipped away. “And yet…”

“And yet?”

Qrow’s fingers shivered. “He’s the last one standing. And now, the girls are Huntresses, too.”

Clover’s breath caught in his throat. Carefully, he took Qrow’s hand, lacing their fingers together- callused touch creeping against Qrow’s skin, trying to move gently enough so that Qrow didn’t run. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

The elder snorted. “Am I, though?”

“Your nieces think so. They think the world of you.”

Qrow leaned forward, laying his other arm on the table and rested his forehead against it, hiding his face from Clover. But his hand stayed where it was- fingers laced together, unwilling to give up that slight touch.

“It would be better if Tai was here for them,” Qrow whispered hoarsely.

Clover’s brow furrowed, weary understanding washing over him. _The girls are doing fine. It’s you who wants your teammate here, isn’t it?_

“You’re here, Qrow. I, for one, am happy to work with you.”

But Clover could never be Taiyang, and Qrow’s loneliness wasn’t something he could ever truly fix.


	5. or didn't say at all

**…or didn't say at all**

Team RWBY and their friends wanted to throw a little potluck to celebrate the winter solstice. So, of course the Ace-Ops were invited, along with Qrow as the unwilling, clumsy father figure to the group. Qrow lived up to that teasing title the children bestowed upon him, gruffly patting his nieces on the back, warning them not to eat too many sweets, and hiding away from the rest of the rambunctious crowd on the balcony outside of the small hall they were using.

Clover watched the exchange with amusement, keeping his expression neutral so as to not betray his affections. He had been careful thus far. There was no point in revealing his hand now, especially not when James and Winter were present. So, after making the rounds of each table as cordially as possible, he wandered outside to Qrow with a plate of food- an offering.

Seeing Clover's face eased Qrow's tensions. Unfortunately, that also meant allowing his guard to drop- his pervasive sorrow to slip through. Clover didn't speak. Neither did Qrow.

Silence, however, wouldn't get them anywhere, and the story Qrow had ever-so-slowly been weaving for Clover lingered on his mind constantly. Clover _needed_ to know more. So, when the noise levels increased inside the hall and everyone visible through the mosaicked glass seemed occupied, Clover murmured, "So. You wanted to hunt Huntsmen."

Qrow let out a shuddering breath, an icy cloud of condensation forming, the man picking at the plate of food Clover had brought him. "Mhm."

"Did you ever do it?"

"Only if Oz asked us to."

Clover sighed, pulling Qrow's plate away. Clearly the man wasn't in the mood to eat- but the sadness in his eyes lingered, and Clover was more than happy to keep him company.

He didn't know if that was what Qrow wanted. He liked to pretend, though.

"So when did Ozpin bring you into his inner circle?"

"First year at Beacon."

He raised his brows, contemplating that for a moment after taking a bite of one of Jaune's gift casseroles he had received from the mothers he worked with in Mantle. "That's… quite impressive. You wouldn't think he'd trust a group of children like that."

That brought a laugh out of Qrow. "Oz has always put faith where it doesn't always belong," he muttered, a mix of fondness and regret in his voice and narrowed eyes. "With Ruby, I'd say he made the right choice. With us… not so much."

"Did all of you agree right away?"

Qrow shook his head. With careful movements, the man reached into his jacket. A flash of alarm crossed Clover's mind, but it immediately settled when instead of a flask, a small, clear water bottle appeared in Qrow's hands. The man took a small swig of water, grimacing. "Raven didn't. Tai didn't want to, since Raven said no, and he didn't want to turn his back on his partner."

Sidling closer to Qrow, Clover stated, "But you ended up joining."

"Yeah. Summer wanted to." His forehead creased again, and Clover itched to embrace the other man, using his lips to smooth away the furrows that formed. "Summer always wanted to make a difference, and this was how she wanted to do it."

Clover looked out onto the academy's school grounds, the eternal snow glittering underneath the hundreds of lights and screens illuminating the entire campus. "She… sounds great," he said. He could remember Summer Rose and her speed and her stealth, her quiet leadership evident on the battlefield even to the boy Clover had been.

"The best partner anyone could ask for." To Clover's surprise, Qrow snorted, a smile finally quirking his lips. "What a brat."

 _That_ was certainly an unexpected addendum. "But- but you-"

Qrow shrugged. "I have a fondness for brats, okay?"

He stilled, mind racing. "Good to know." Then, he reached out a hand, cupped Qrow's cheek, and turned it towards him, kissing him at last. The contact itself wasn't anything special- Qrow was far from the first lover he had ever held- but everything about the man's nose fitting against his, the gentle taste of his lips on Clover's tongue when he pulled away, the reflection of Clover's green eyes in Qrow's red- it felt right.

Qrow took a moment to numbly comprehend what he had done, finally pulling away and frantically casting a glance over his shoulder towards the hall. Through the frosted, mosaicked glass of the balcony doors, no one had seen a thing. "What the hell was that, Clover-"

Clover shrugged, stepping closer- not giving Qrow room to run away. "You said you liked brats. I figured I should be more willful."

Qrow gawped at him. "You-"

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

Clover waited for a long, long moment after that, stepping back once again; giving access to the balcony door to Qrow; giving him space. If Qrow wanted to leave, then that was that, and Clover would carry on with his life admiring Qrow Branwen from afar.

Qrow stepped forward. Not away, but towards Clover, fingers nervously tapping against the railing, eyes downcast as he struggled to find the words.

So Clover kissed him again, and Qrow let the rest of his story die on his lips, to be told another day.


	6. under the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in a weird mood all day. Maybe it's just the grind getting to me, who knows.

**…under the stars**

The watch was fruitless, not a Grimm to be seen. Penny was sitting in the truck with Ruby, where Ruby could stay warm while they waited for aid; their engine had broken down halfway to the build site of the Amity communications tower. With day having long turned to night, they had little to do but stay put and defend the cargo.

Clover shifted in his seat on top of the truck, chastising himself silently. His eyes should’ve been scanning the distance, watchful for incoming Grimm. Instead, all he could see was the way dark, hooded crimson eyes lit up at the sight of a sea of stars, sprawling brilliantly above them all.

“Summer always loved stargazing.” Qrow’s words were nothing more than a murmur.

Clover understood. Ruby and Penny’s voices were muffled from inside the truck. The only reason to draw their attention would be if there was a Grimm. He kept his voice low as well when he replied, “Why’s that?”

“She had an interesting way of looking at things.”

 _So do you._ “Did you agree with her?”

“Not at first.”

“And now?”

Qrow frowned, lost in thought. Clover almost prodded him further when Qrow finally said, “I think… I think I’m starting to get there.”

“What was so different about how she saw the world?”

And thus, the tales began. Clover found himself doing something he hadn’t expected to that night: he laughed.

Qrow told Clover about how he had been tricked into wearing a skirt, with Taiyang laughing the whole while. Raven had tried to disown him; Summer had simply bumped her hip against Qrow’s, saying they matched.

He told Clover about how, despite all their warnings, Taiyang had pined after every woman with a pulse except for Glynda Goodwitch, a TA in their first year; apparently even Raven Branwen was less severe than the strict TA. Summer had smiled and coached Taiyang on how to impress each and every one. He always failed.

He told Clover about how Raven had ripped up all her textbooks and notebooks in frustration during their midterm examinations, lashing out and disappearing from the school for days, only for them to realize that she was simply frustrated about their history class because she struggled memorizing dates. Summer took up the mantle of teaching her with ease, leaving Taiyang to help Qrow with geography. Surprisingly, Taiyang had been the better teacher.

“And what did Summer do?”

Qrow smiled, looking up at the stars. “She’d always drag me out to go stargazing, ‘cause if you look long enough, they disappear.”

“Um…”

Qrow snorted. “Yeah, I didn’t understand why she was trying to be deep about the concept of day and night either. She was that kind of person. You just had to go with it.”

Clover chuckled, leaning back. He reached out a tentative hand, gently brushing Qrow’s hair out of his eyes. “You miss her, don’t you?”

And for once, Qrow’s smile wasn’t despondent; it carried no regret, no grief. “Yeah.” But he looked contented as Clover rested his hand against Qrow’s cheek, dragging his touch lightly down Qrow’s face, resting against the nape of his neck before pulling away. It wouldn’t do for Ruby or Penny to see.

“It’s not a bad thought,” Clover mused aloud, looking back up at the sky. “To go out. Look at the stars. Watch it all turn to sunrise.”

“Sh,” Qrow said. “From your lips to her ears, don’t encourage her.”

But they were both smiling, and despite the eternal chill of Mantle, Clover wasn’t cold at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you're reading along! I'd love to hear from you :D


	7. in the grass

**…in the grass**

Atlas was known for its breathtaking architecture, the tall, polished buildings gleaming white and icy blues and greys, reflecting the sunlight the moment it peeked over the horizon. Clover had spent all his life on Mantle, and later, in Atlas- he had no concept of what it would be like to ever live anywhere else.

Clearly, Qrow was not the same.

He knew he had made the right choice to bring Qrow to the greenhouse when he saw those brooding, lost red eyes suddenly perk up, a wry smile automatically growing on Qrow’s face before the elder even realized it. Clover didn’t blame him. It truly was an incredible facility, growing all of the crops that Atlas needed to sustain itself and exporting the rest down to Mantle to help with their weaker harvests. At night time, the pink and blue lights which alternated through the facility depending on the plants growing in each quadrant reflected throughout the agricultural and technology districts on the floating island, creating a true spectacle.

And for Qrow, who had never had to venture out this way for any mission in all his years as a Huntsman, seeing the lights illuminating such never-ending greenery in a continent of ice seemed absolutely _magical._ “What’s all this?”

Clover had to fight back his smile with everything he had as he saw the sheer wonder in Qrow’s face. “I told you- I needed to grab something.”

It wasn’t a lie. James had asked him to check in with one of the managers to see if they could spare supplies for the Amity project. Bringing Qrow along was Clover’s own prerogative, however.

Qrow clearly didn’t seem to mind, long fingers trailing delightedly across lightly-misted ferns and flowers. “No kidding? This place is amazing.”

Clover grinned, striding forward and beckoning for Qrow to follow. “I thought you might like it.”

A quiet wolf-whistle still managed to echo through the otherwise-quiet facility. “You thought right.”

“Not a fan of all the ice, I take it?” He made his way down the rows of planted vegetables, sweating as he passed underneath the special heat lamps stationed beside each row. Their destination was close.

Clover heard Qrow snort behind him, his voice rueful as he said, “More like you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

And then, they arrived, and Clover stepped out a side door of the greenhouse, holding it open for Qrow. While majority of the sprawling, covered compound was dedicated to plowed fields and orchards and vines, there was a small coin of space right outside its walls, right behind the main director’s headquarters, that was just… grass. Just a lawn, sloping gently down a small hill, the green constantly masked by the glow of rosy purple lighting reflecting off the greenhouse walls. The heat emanating from the greenhouse was enough to keep the snow from ever finding purchase, and the hill gave way to an unobstructed view of the academy.

Qrow frowned, watching Clover take a seat skeptically. “What’s this?”

“Just a nice little spot. The manager’s on break right now,” Clover explained, settling himself down to lie on his back, arms folded behind his head.

“How do you know?” Qrow asked, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

Clover shrugged, thankful for having memorized the manager’s schedule over dinner. “I have my ways.”

“Seriously, Clover?”

He chuckled, closing his eyes and relishing in the night air. “What’s wrong with laying in the grass once in a while?”

There was no movement for almost a minute- long enough for worry to begin setting in, for Clover to start wondering whether the other man had left. He sat up, only to see Qrow chuckling at last in disbelief, taking a seat beside him. “You’re going to stain that uniform of yours.”

His fears melted away instantly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep it nice and clean,” he winked.

Qrow rolled his eyes, all easygoing posture and debonair smiles, and for a moment, Clover’s breath caught in his throat as he was transported twenty years into the past, watching Qrow Branwen wink to the camera once more.

The elder murmured, “I swear, you can be just like-“

“Summer?”

Qrow paused. “…How did you know?”

Clover lay back down, tearing his eyes away to avoid having his own pink ears spotted. “You said she liked stargazing. If she’s Ruby’s mother, I’m sure she was also someone who enjoyed taking a break every now and then.” When Qrow hummed in confirmation, he added, “…she forced you to skip class all the time, didn’t she?”

“Oh my _god,”_ Qrow cried, laying back heavily beside Clover and throwing his hands up into the air, gesticulating wildly to demonstrate his point, “she always made us skip, even Rae thought it was a problem- hell, even Oz wanted to fail us at one point-“

And as Qrow went off on another tangent about his former life at Beacon Academy, Clover closed his eyes, relishing in the softness of grass beneath his head and the warmth of Qrow by his side.


	8. while we were driving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a teeny bit late, but happy bday to me I guess lol

**…while we were driving**

“Happy birthday.”

He didn’t need to look over to sense how Qrow stiffened in the seat next to him, his cards an inch away from falling onto the table. A simple routine disrupted. “…How did you know?”

“Ruby told me.” Clover smiled, gently laying down his hand. It was perfect. There was no way Qrow could beat him, despite the fact that Clover had already discarded multiple hands in the hope of giving the elder some sort of chance.

Chance was never on his side, though. This didn’t come as a surprise to either of them. Qrow sighed, tossing his cards onto the table with a frustrated pout. “I can’t win against you, I can’t win against anyone-“

“Who could you win against? Other than Ruby and Yang, I mean.” Clover shifted onto his knees, calmly collecting the cards and shuffling them again. He had long since given up on asking Qrow whether the man wanted to play another round while they were on their supply runs. Qrow always wanted to play another round. Why, Clover didn’t know, but he was more than happy to oblige Qrow.

It seemed Qrow understood his question, long having since realized that any information on Team STRQ was cherished by Clover. “…Tai. He’s a terrible player- you’d think he’d realize it after all these years, but even with _my_ luck, he’s an easy target.”

“I would’ve thought you’d say Summer was bad, based on how you discuss her.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond, tender. “She _was_ bad, but Raven would always help her cheat.”

“You let her get away with it?”

“Look, in first year, Raven barely spoke to Summer. When Rae finally opened up, you have no idea how much it made Summer’s _world._ I wasn’t going to take that away from her.”

_I think I know. How long did it take for you to open up to me?_

Clover didn’t say anything as he finished dealing the cards. He checked his own cards- they looked nearly unbeatable. He murmured, “How did she help Summer cheat?”

Qrow sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “She’d just cause a distraction or something so Summer could see my cards, or-“

And, still kneeling beside the box they had turned into their makeshift table at the back of the cargo truck, Clover leaned over and pressed his lips against Qrow’s, feeling heat rising within him as he felt the other man freeze, then relax in his touch.

Finally, he pulled away by a hairsbreadth, glancing down at the cards Qrow had carelessly let hang limp in his hand. _I’m going to win again._ Qrow’s eyes were still closed, expecting Clover to come back, fill in the space between them.

_I’m happy you’re here, Qrow. Thank you._

So, before Vine or Ren could notice their lack of banter from their seat in the front, he did.


	9. when you were crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish I had more motivation to write these days. Life’s moving simultaneously too fast and too slow for me with everything going on right now. I wish I had someone to keep me on a schedule :(
> 
> Leave a comment if you’re reading along! Feedback is always appreciated.

**…when you were crying**

Qrow never came to the officer’s mess. “I’m trying to give it up,” he had explained at the start of his time in Atlas. “Drinking dulls my Semblance, so I, uh… I may have started doing it too much to make sure other people were safe from it.” His eyes had clouded, regret emanating from every subtle shift in his posture as he drew in on himself. “It wasn’t good for me, or for anyone. Ruby got mad.”

“When did it start?” Clover had asked. Something told him that it hadn’t been just to cope with his Semblance- that it had also been a way to cope with _Salem._

Qrow had shrugged. “Back in my day, it was easy getting alcohol. Vale’s bars weren’t as strict as they are today, so I was drinking from the moment I got into Beacon.”

Something about that had felt off to Clover. “But wouldn’t anyone stop you? Your teammates? Ozpin?”

“Ozpin can’t ask anyone to stop anything. Talk about pot calling a kettle black.” And Qrow had spat on the ground, bitter nostalgia filling his eyes a moment later. “Summer hadn’t liked it. Rae never cared. Tai never knew how to talk about it.”

And then he had pressed his lips into a thin line, and that had been that. So, seeing Qrow at the officer’s mess of his own accord was something Clover doubted he’d ever see.

Even more unlikely, though, was finding Qrow _outside_ of the officer’s mess.

And yet, as Clover waved the bartender and some other Huntsmen he had chatted with over a drink goodbye, stepping through the outdoor exit of the facility in order to take a shortcut to the barracks, he found Qrow Branwen seated on the steps leading into the small, yet perfectly sculpted quad. Right outside the officer’s mess.

Clover hesitated. Was it his place to approach the man? Perhaps he had just gone there because he knew no one would look for him there. Would Qrow be upset if Clover approached him?

And then, he saw Qrow’s shoulders tremble, and the decision was made for him.

“Hey.” He called out long before he approached, not wanting to startle the man.

Qrow’s back stiffened, jolting upright. Without turning around, Qrow stood, raising up a hand in a half-hearted wave before he shoved his hands into his pockets and loped away. The entire time, he kept his face hidden.

 _No. I’m not letting you go that easily._ Not when Qrow’s back looked so small and so wide at the same time- not when he saw Qrow reach up and swipe his face with his sleeve, a motion that could only betray tears- not when the moonlight filtering into the quad reflected off Qrow’s hair like starlight, black and grey strands turning white and silver and breathtaking in the light-

So, he followed.

Qrow made no move to lose him despite his speed. He could’ve easily, Clover knew. Yet, Clover was able to trail after the man with ease, leaving enough space between the two of them that Qrow couldn’t hear Clover’s sluggish, mildly intoxicated pants of exertion as he fought to keep up. It was just enough so that if Qrow truly was crying, he’d have enough space and solitude to do so freely.

Finally, Qrow stopped his journey across Atlas’ grounds, losing himself in the trees surrounding a walking path outside of the academy’s gates. Clover cursed under his breath and looked around, each pant coming out in a cloud of vapour in the frigid wintry chill. It didn’t take long for him to spot Qrow amidst the trees, however- a fluttering red cape and that shining hair was easily recognizable at any distance.

So, he followed. And when he did, he found himself suddenly pushed up against a tree, Harbinger at his throat.

“Something happened.”

Qrow’s eyes were filled with tears, bloodshot and lids puffy, trailing wet streams down each of his cheeks. The man looked fiercely vulnerable, brows drawn together, mouth twisting into a snarl, and blade pressed against Clover’s Adam’s apple with little remorse. Qrow looked as if he were two heartbeats from crumbling, and his false mask of rage and anger was all that was keeping him whole.

Clover was dumbfounded, barely able to process it all. Why? Why would Qrow do this? What had happened? Was this a betrayal? Whose side was he on? What was-

And then, he smelt it.

Liquor. Rum. The scent was smoky-sickly-sweet, curling into the air and landing on Clover’s lips.

All he had had at the mess was a few beers, nothing more.

“Qrow,” Clover breathed, understanding at last what was going on. It wasn’t anger on Qrow’s face.

It was shame.

Without a word, Clover pushed Qrow’s hand down, forcing him to lower Harbinger. The man didn’t push back, allowing Clover to move the weapon away from his throat. Once Clover was able to breathe freely again without fear of injury, he silently wrapped his arms around Qrow, holding the man’s head against his own shoulder. The elder was absolutely _freezing._ Leaning back against the tree behind him, Clover held his breath, waiting for the moment Qrow would finally relax and explain.

He didn’t explain. Instead, he simply sagged into Clover’s embrace, weeping silently, a wet patch growing on Clover’s shoulders from the elder’s tears. The man, who had once been so, so proud and indomitable, was broken and intoxicated, despite weeks of staying sober.

Clover couldn’t imagine what the elder must have been feeling like. _He probably thinks he let down Ruby and Yang, huh?_ That very thought was a stab in the heart, even for him. Qrow put the girls’ well-being above anything and everything else.

“I won’t ask,” Clover whispered. “It’s okay if you slipped up. That’s okay.”

But Qrow couldn’t respond, too afraid to lift his face, so Clover held him there, praying that his arms would be able to provide some warmth, some respite, from the fact that Qrow thought he had failed.


	10. when i was crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the spiciest my writing will ever get, so read it while you can, folks. Also, Clover stans enthusiastic consent. What a good boy.

**…when i was crying**

Clover didn’t know how it happened. One moment, Qrow was in his arms in the middle of the forested path outside the Academy. Qrow was weeping; he had been drinking; he had been hurting and freezing and everything had seemed to be a little too much for Clover’s mildly-intoxicated brain.

And then, they were in his quarters.

Qrow’s body was soft, pliant. It was hard to believe that all of that toned muscle that Clover had watched move so fluidly underneath that grey vest, that simple button-down- it was here, smooth and supple to the touch. In front of him.

Bare.

But it wasn’t, the scars of a lifetime of battle and conflict marring what should have been perfect skin.

No- it _was_ perfect, scars and all. Clover let his own fingertips drag across firm muscle and raised tissue that looked like it would have broken a lesser man.

It hadn’t broken Qrow. Nothing could break Qrow. Clover believed that one, undying truth- just as he had thought twenty years earlier, Qrow Branwen could not be taken down. His palm swept across sensitive skin, tracing a ribcage that seemed too gaunt for comfort, before hooking fingers underneath a knee, raising it to his hip, forcing the man’s back against the wall. His tongue hit Qrow’s throat where Harbinger had tried to mar Clover’s. Qrow’s breathless gasps were all they could hear, and Clover was heady with it all, feeling Qrow’s desperate pants for air move his Adam’s apple against Clover’s tongue.

Two hungry mouths found their way to each other, and it was then that Clover finally realized what was going on. He pulled away, the taste of Qrow muddled by alcohol and sweetness in all the wrong ways, turning sour in a heartbeat. “Qrow, please-“

And Qrow’s eyes widened, looking at Clover backing away across the room as if Clover had just told him a final goodbye. His mouth, bruised and pink and bitten, fell open- eyes filling with panic, the tears and weight of it all settling upon his shoulders.

Qrow shrugged on his shirt.

“No, wait-“ Clover sprang forward again. How could he make it all make sense? How could he explain? After a lifetime of fantasizing, of praying, of wishing but not expecting anything even in his wildest dreams, Qrow Branwen was _here,_ looking disheveled and so _wanton-_

_Who else has held him like this?_

What a pervasive thought. His mind immediately landed on Team STRQ. Was it Summer? Was it Taiyang?

Had Ozpin held the man Clover had always desired?

He was going to be sick.

Qrow glared at him, then staggered over to a chair by the wide, floor-to-ceiling window. He hung his head into his hands, almost bent double as he leaned forward, avoiding Clover’s gaze.

“Qrow,” Clover breathed, walking over to him. He wanted to kneel in front of Qrow, to beg him to let Clover hold him- to pick up where they left off, to have Qrow in his arms in the way he had never allowed himself to even entertain-

He wanted to cry as he realized this wouldn’t have happened if they were sober.

He didn’t. Instead, he sighed, pouring himself a cup of water. He poured one for Qrow, then set them both down on the small coffee table between Qrow and himself as he took the second chair. Silently, he drank it down, wishing that he hadn’t decided to join the other officers that night in the mess.

Finally, he whispered, “We shouldn’t do this like… this.”

He didn’t want to hold Qrow when they were drinking. If he could take Qrow Branwen into his arms, his bed, he was going to make sure he could remember every single second of it. He was going to make sure they were both sober- willing- _loving-_

It was too much to hope for, so he crushed the dream and tossed it away.

Qrow didn’t respond, retreating within himself in that way that only Qrow Branwen always seemed to do when he didn’t know what other options there were.

Clover sighed, giving up on distancing himself. It had been folly to think he could- not with Qrow _here,_ in _his bedroom,_ all the colour washed out of his body like a being of pure moonlight except for those _eyes._ Sliding onto one knee, Clover closed the distance between them, untangling Qrow’s hands from his hair and cupping his face, lifting it up for Clover to see. The moonlight glistening off Qrow’s tears made his face seem to sparkle and glow, and Clover’s breath caught in his throat.

Then, he wiped away those tears and put on his best affectation of a smile. “I won’t ask you to tell me what happened, you old crow,” he teased, voice barely audible. “But I’m not ashamed of you. Slipping up is normal. Tomorrow, you’ll just get back up and keep going, okay?”

This time, the words seemed to stick. Qrow tried to pull himself away, but Clover didn’t let go, holding Qrow in place to wipe away the tears that kept falling. His lips found their way to a creased forehead, an eye lined with age and laughter, laugh and worry lines stained with tears by a trembling mouth. Each time, his lips silently sang the words he could never say aloud.


	11. that made me feel like shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt is me today. I need to world to give me a break. Too much crying today smh

**…that made me feel like shit**

When Clover’s eyes opened the next morning, his body was cold, laying limply in his bed, still fully clothed. His arms were empty. The second glass of water on the coffee table was still full. Qrow was gone.

When Clover got out of bed, his limbs moved like clockwork, body naught more than an automaton while his mind worked in the exact opposite direction. He was too focused on what had happened last night, questions ringing through his thoughts faster than he could possibly conjure up answers for them. He got showered. Got dressed. Shaved with his eyes closed, too weary to wipe the steam off the mirror.

When Clover finally looked at himself in the long mirror hung on the wall by the front door of his quarters, his reflection left nothing to be desired. His uniform was neatly pressed and perfectly contoured around his frame. He looked every bit as proud as he should be.

When Clover’s fingers found their way up to his lips, though, he realized how false it all was. No bruises lingered upon his lips. No bite marks marred his flesh. His Aura had done good work, as always. Luck was on his side- except, it wasn’t.

Clover strode down winding corridors, nodding as students saluted to acknowledge his rank, the fake bluster about him more than enough to hide the anger welling up in his heart. He had _wanted_ those bruises to remain, _wanted_ his lips to be bitten and bloody, _wanted-_ wanted _Qrow._

He wanted proof to exist that it hadn’t been a dream; but the hangover had been taken care of just like the evidence: whisked away into nothing by his Aura.

Lucky, lucky Clover.

But Qrow wasn’t in the briefing room, nor was he in the mess hall. The officer’s mess wasn’t open, and the rookies were all sent on missions with little delay, so he couldn’t be with them. It was James who told him where Qrow had gone. “He went to patrol Mantle’s walls,” the general stated wearily. “He insisted, so I let him. We didn’t need him for any mission in particular today, but…” James’ mouth twisted into a concerned frown. “Do you know what’s going on with him? He looked a little… out of sorts.”

Clover simply saluted, stated he’d be going down to Mantle as well, and left without waiting for James’ reprimand. He didn’t know how to speak to the other man. The mere fact that it was _James_ telling him, of all people- when Clover had gotten so damn sure that he, Clover, was the one who knew Qrow the best-

The trip to Mantle was a long, excruciating ride. It was made only more intolerable as his hands rested in his lap, reaching out and grabbing nothing, unable to forget the shape of Qrow’s body in his grasp and how, after a lifetime of _want,_ nothing had felt more natural in his life.

He was entitled to nothing. He knew it.

Still, as he stepped out of the airship and patrolled the top of the wall, finally coming upon the lone silhouette, dark outline broken only by the red cape fluttering in the arctic wind, a red streak shattering the monotony of Mantle’s tundra, of Clover’s _world,_ Clover knew what he had to do.

He called out while he was still at arm’s length- no, at scythe’s length. It was a good choice, for Harbinger unfurled in a fluid motion so effortlessly in his direction that had he been standing any closer, he would’ve been cleaved in two.

Qrow’s face fell upon seeing him, haggard and terrified. His lips, so swollen the night before, had become bitten by winter’s dry chill, cracking as his mouth fell open slightly, unable to produce words. Harbinger wasn’t put away.

Clover called, “I’m sorry if I went too far, Qrow.”

No response.

“I’m still proud of you. I meant it.”

No response.

“All your progress wasn’t meaningless. Today’s a new day. It was just bad luck, right?”

Finally, Qrow let out a bitter smile.

Lucky Clover could share his fortune. Clover held out a hand to him, palm open, extended. “Let me help you.”

Qrow’s smile grew wider. “You can’t, kid.”

“Has no one ever offered to before?” As he spoke, however, he knew the answer. Before Qrow could respond, a well of frustration rose up in Clover, the words falling off of his tongue before he could stop them. “Qrow, I’m _not_ Summer. My Semblance can-“

And Harbinger was at his throat yet again, but this time, no one could blame any alcohol. Qrow stared at him evenly, the weary acceptance in face more painful than any rejection could ever be.

“No. You’re not.” And Qrow left him behind.


	12. when i was drunk

**…when I was drunk**

Clover should’ve seen it coming. He wasn’t a member of Team STRQ. He would never be on the same level as Summer, as Raven or Taiyang. He was just a member of the Ace-Ops.

To anyone else in Atlas, that would’ve been nothing but a badge of honour. To be recognized as one of the most trusted members of James Ironwood’s inner circle was a feat in itself.

But Qrow was not one to care about honour, about position- Clover had seen him growl and sneer at James’ ideas often enough to understand that. Qrow needed something else in his life.

Based on his reaction to Clover’s words… Clover wasn’t it.

So when Elm invited him to drink that night after clearing out a Grimm nest with the rest of the Ace-Ops and the other Huntsmen they had led on that mission, Clover didn’t turn her down. He wasn’t going to be seeing Qrow that night. He didn’t really know how to see Qrow.

_I’m pathetic._

But he was also still Clover Ebi, leader of the Ace-Ops, and he needed to keep that smile on his face and lead with pride.

So the drinks came. Pitchers were shared, tankards were filled. He had never been a big fan of the drinking culture of the Atlesian military, but he could let himself go that night- anything to forget the feel of Harbinger at his throat, the disappointment in red eyes, the taste of rum and Qrow on his tongue. He needed to forget. He had already seen the mission briefing for the next day’s missions, and he and Qrow would need to work together. He needed to forget before then.

He played pool with the other Huntsmen. Pool, cards, darts- everything was set up in the back of the mess, so they dragged their pitchers and snacks and laughter with them. Clover allowed Marrow to sling an arm around his shoulder, laughing when James spilled his drink by accident, and joined into the little arm-wrestling tournament Harriet and Elm began stirring up with all of the Huntsmen present.

Of course, he won all of his matches. Intoxicated or not, his training wasn’t for nothing, his sculpted physique not just for show. He relished in the feeling of release that came after his opponents gave in, one after another, their hands slamming on the table and leaving him to walk away victorious. Even Elm lost- whether that was due to his strength or her ninth pint, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter either way.

Suddenly, another body filled the seat opposite to Clover, holding his hand out. Clover froze- that hand had been in his the night before, running along his skin, lighting him on fire. He gulped, feeling the watchful eyes of a prying audience, the entire officer’s mess awaiting the match with bated breath.

Under his breath, he whispered, “You… don’t come here usually,” as he offered his hand.

Qrow didn’t meet his eyes. “I heard there was a party. Decided to crash it.”

“Are you confident you can win?”

“I may not look it, but I always used to beat everyone at Beacon. Still can beat Tai, despite him being a muscle head.”

“Good for you.”

Qrow flinched at the brusqueness of his tone. Clover didn’t find it within himself to care. He didn’t feel like listening to reminiscing that night. Being let into Qrow’s heart gave him too much hope.

Thin, long fingers wrapped around his. Clover had to fight back the shiver, the heat, as he strengthened his grip, steeling himself despite the looseness of his bones, the putty of his muscles. He was tired and drunk and wanted to go to bed.

He knew would sleep perfectly if Qrow was in his arms. So Clover wouldn’t be sleeping perfectly that night.

Harriet counted down the match. “3, 2, 1, _go!”_

And in his hands, he threw in all of his annoyance, his frustration, his anger. His loneliness. His self-pity and regret. His desires.

Qrow’s arm didn’t budge.

Clover felt the muscles and veins in his neck bulge as he strained against Qrow’s strength, but despite the man’s lanky frame, Qrow still held firm against Clover. Not without difficulty, of course- the elder Huntsman’s face grew red with the exertion, but he didn’t back down.

And, ever so slowly, Clover felt his hand being pushed down.

If this had happened just 24 hours before, Clover probably would’ve been equal parts frustrated by the loss and aroused by it. After all, he had always fantasized about seeing Qrow Branwen’s strength in action- to be so thoroughly trounced would’ve almost been an honour, regardless of how he immediately would’ve demanded a rematch.

But that was before.

 _I can’t win._ That thought echoed, clear and bright and hopeless in his mind, and Clover relaxed. He let his arm fall limply in Qrow’s grasp, wincing as the other man accidentally smashed Clover’s hand against the wooden tabletop. “Shit, sorry,” Qrow said, immediately flipping Clover’s hand over to check the back of his palm.

The audience cheered, people rushing forward to clap Qrow on the shoulder and offer to buy him a drink for the victory. Clover tugged his hand out of Qrow’s grip without hesitation, ignoring the ache that was spreading across his hand and arm. He was tired. He needed to go to bed at some point before the mission the next day.

Qrow stood and followed after Clover when the younger man waved to the crowd, reminded his team of the next day’s briefing, and began to head out. “Clover, wait-“

“No,” Clover sighed, stepping outside. The air was cold against his face. Sobering. Lonely. “Not tonight.”

“I-“

“Maybe in the future, Qrow,” he said tightly. “Maybe when you figure out what you want.”

“What _I_ want?” He seemed startled, face twisting into a snarl. “Well, buddy, like you’re one to talk- you don’t even know-“

“I want you.” And with that, Clover headed back to the barracks, already dreading the sleepless night he knew was awaiting him, grimly aware that no footsteps followed his.


	13. when you thought i was asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How come this week and last week feel like ten years stuffed into ten days? I'm exhausted.

**…when you thought i was asleep**

The first knock at his window was nothing but a distant sound, fading away just as quickly as it had come into the hazy recesses of his mind.

The second knock at his window was more concerning, drawing him out of a fitful rest for the nth time. He groaned, rolling over onto his other side, trying to drown out the thoughts which threatened to suffocate him in his sleep.

The third was no accident.

Without a sound, Clover’s eyes snapped wide open. He slowly sat up in his bed, blinking sleep and alcohol-tinged bleariness from his eyes, turning to the windowsill. His barracks were on the top floor of the officer’s mess, and the ledge outside was naught more than six inches wide.

Yet, as his eyes focused onto the sight outside of the glass, there was no humanoid figure watching him like he had feared. Instead, there was nothing but a tiny black shadow, ruffled feathers and a sharp beak pecking at the glass for the fourth time.

Clover frowned. The bird had red eyes.

It wasn’t natural, the way it looked at Clover- immobile it stood, red glinting in the waning moonlight. Swallowing thickly, Clover slipped out from under the covers, grabbing Kingfisher from its hook by his bed along the way, and walked over to the window. Then, with careful, tentative fingers creaky by his lack of rest, he slowly lifted up the latch and pushed open the windows, gooseflesh raising along his bare arms as the wintry chill flooded his already-frigid bedroom.

After a moment, the bird hopped inside, perching upon the edge of the inner windowsill. It cocked its head, looking at Clover with such curiosity, such intensity, that Clover couldn’t look away.

It was a crow.

Clover closed the window, shivering as the icy breeze disappeared. Then, he sat down upon one of the chairs by the coffee table, patting the tabletop.

The bird didn’t fly to the tabletop where he indicated. Instead, it landed upon his knee. Clover smiled automatically- it was such an oddly serene animal. When he held out a hand for the corvid, the bird ignored it, instead jumping over his outstretched fingers and nestling right against Clover’s stomach. Within a few moments, the bird trilled, the sound unexpectedly gentle for a crow as it faded away into contented clicks. Feathers fluffed out and the bird sat down on his thigh, closing those red eyes and laying its beak onto Clover’s arm.

Clover did not know how long he watched the tiny creature in his lap sleep, but eventually, sleep overtook him, too. This time, there were no sudden starts, no fitful tossing and turning. And when Clover woke up to the sound of his Scroll’s morning alarm, feeling surprisingly refreshed and understandably confused, his lap was empty; but his hair had been brushed out of his face, his body covered in a thick blanket, and taste of Qrow was back on his tongue.

At the briefing later that morning, Qrow stood at the monitor beside him. He didn’t walk away. Clover looked him in the eyes as everyone else began to file out of the room, chattering about their assignments. Clover didn’t focus on their words, his own attention locked onto the same red eyes that he had looked into so many times- the same red eyes that had waited outside the window the night before. It felt fantastical, and yet… it seemed right.

“Now you know,” Qrow shrugged.

“Now I know,” Clover replied.

Neither man said another word. Clover knew what Qrow meant anyways.


	14. at the kitchen table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these two clumsy himbos tryna be good people :D

**…at the kitchen table**

The mission was a success, going off without a second thought. Clover and Qrow managed to work perfectly together, moving so seamlessly that it was as if there had never been any discord to begin with.

The feeling of leaving his back unguarded always sent a little thrill up Clover’s spine. When he was younger and more foolish, that thrill had been enjoyed as someone who was taking chances with fate. Now, that thrill was only heightened because he knew that no matter what, he’d be safe.

Qrow would guard his back, just as Clover’s first priority was guarding Qrow’s.

Once they had returned to the Academy and finished their debriefing, it seemed only natural to move into the mess hall for a meal. The others ambled off afterwards towards the officer’s mess to celebrate the mission completion before resting up for the night. Clover and Qrow stayed behind, with Clover slowly sipping his tea while Qrow played around with the few sad scraps of spinach left limply on his plate.

The silence was amicable. Close. As if nothing had threatened to tear them apart only two nights before.

“When did you learn to do _that?”_ Clover murmured, keeping his eyes focused on his reflection in his warm cup of clear peppermint tea.

“I didn’t ‘learn’ anything,” Qrow replied, voice husky, contemplative. “Ozpin needed spies, scouts, messengers. Me and Rae were always the quickest out of Team STRQ.” He snorted. “Add to that Oz’s… questionable sense of humour, and poof. We can turn into birds.”

Clover found his eyes drifting to the other man seated diagonally to him across the table, just daring to peek at him out of the corner of his eye. “Do you like it?”

The elder shrugged, leaning back in his chair, eyes drifting to the eastern wall and its sheets of nearly floor-to-ceiling windows. “I mean… I didn’t mind the magic. It helped Oz. It’s gotten me out of more scrapes than I can count. Rae did mind, though.”

 _He can turn into a crow at will. He can just… transform. The magic of the Maidens is one thing, but Ozpin managed to give him powers to transfigure himself. It’s just… surreal._ “Raven sounded like a bit of a handful.”

“Understatement. She wasn’t happy with _anything._ ” His lip curled into a sneer, but his eyes carried no malice; only disappointment.

Clover idly took another sip, feeling his calmness returning with every swallow, every deep breath. He had wanted to ask Qrow this question throughout the entire mission. “Why did you come to see me like that last night?”

Qrow didn’t respond.

Clover didn’t want to push him- never wanted to step outside what Qrow was comfortable with, always wanted to just content himself with simply being with _Qrow Branwen,_ despite what his traitorous heart longed for- but when Qrow carried on in silence, Clover finally lifted his gaze properly to look at Qrow.

His words died in his throat. Qrow was _blushing._

The elder was still playing with the few scraps on his plate. Clover reached out and carefully pulled the fork out of his hand, setting it onto his plate and pulling Qrow’s whole tray away from him, stacking his plates onto Clover’s. As he moved, Clover focused on the task at hand, trying to calm himself down- trying to ignore the fact that he could feel his ears burning with heat, could almost sense Qrow just a few feet away.

Once his voice was in control, Clover murmured, “You wanted to see me that bad, huh?”

Qrow cleared his throat, clumsily getting up and tucking his chair in. Clover chuckled as the elder man stumbled, knocking over a salt shaker on the table and pouting as it spilled onto the smooth, otherwise-immaculate surface. Qrow’s eyes leapt up to Clover’s again and the man blushed harder, grimacing at his own clumsiness- his own misfortune.

He was about to comment on it, to tease Qrow, when Qrow simply muttered, “You stopped us before. We never got to finish… that.”

And just like that, Clover’s heart was taken in for the millionth time over the past twenty years. But this time, it wasn’t a handsome young Huntsman winking at the camera as he demolished the battlefield alongside a stunning team that won him over.

Clover sank shakily back into his chair, a stunned smile on his face as his racing heart threatened to burst through his ribcage while watching a clumsy, jaded older Huntsman blush, long ringed fingers clumsily sweeping up spilled salt with a napkin, curses dropping unbecomingly from his lips as the salt rolled onto the floor.

And when Clover moved to help him, he whispered an invitation in Qrow’s ear. Watching the flush on Qrow’s face deepen was all he needed to know his feelings were real- and that they weren’t in vain.


	15. after you kissed me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More!!! Himbos!!! Keep the comments coming, they're really making a shitty week better haha

**…after you kissed me**

His reports were inputted into the system. The following day’s briefings were checked over, all files in place, all personnel informed. There was nothing left to do that night but wait for the dawn to come.

Clover repeated this to himself as he closed the door behind himself and Qrow, hearing the squeak of the bed and the weary sigh of the Huntsman laying upon it.

Once the door was closed, all bets were off. Clover wanted to retain control, so he took his time hanging Kingfisher up on its hook by the bed, taking a seat on a chair by the coffee table. He tried his best to keep his voice nonchalant as he said, “What made you say yes?”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“No,” Clover admitted, glancing out of the window. The sky was awash in the colours of sunset, magentas and golds quickly fading into another clear, starlit sea of inky darkness. It was easier to watch the colours shift into shadow than to look at the man currently lying on his bed.

Clover needed to retain composure somehow.

His eyes fell upon the windowsill, a small smile creeping onto his face as he remember the night before. “A crow,” he chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. “I can’t believe it.”

Qrow hummed. “What- not a fan?”

“It was cute.”

Qrow’s strangled, indignant cough made Clover relax into his laughter, the man sinking into his chair. He had brought with him a thermos of tea from the mess hall- he sipped it, finally daring to look at the elder whose legs still hung off the side of the bed, lying flat on his back.

Qrow sat up, grimacing and blushing a deeper scarlet. “Ugh,” he muttered, massaging his neck. “Dammit.”

Clover bit back his smile. “I never knew you’d be like this, you know,” he murmured absently.

Qrow frowned, quirking a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Your file suggested nothing but an experienced, elite Huntsman,” Clover lied through his teeth. As if he had only found out about Qrow through James’ files, and not due to the lonely, clinging desire of a child years before. “I would’ve guessed you were much more composed.”

Red eyes rolled in annoyance, the man standing and stalking over to Clover. “Look, bud, you don’t stay alive for this long by being average,” he scoffed, all pompous airs.

As he drew close, Clover reached out and grabbed Qrow’s hand, running his thumb gently over the veins protruding through pale skin. “I know,” he smiled.

Qrow swallowed. And when Clover held up his other hand, inviting Qrow to lean down, Qrow only hesitated for a moment before complying, kissing him quietly. Clover relished in the feeling- completely sober, the touch felt gentle, nothing but the taste of Qrow and peppermint on his tongue. Finally, he pulled away, smiling at the elder’s obvious shyness. “So, who taught you to do _that_?”

Qrow smirked, but he didn’t meet Clover’s eyes. “Don’t remember, Mr. Good-luck-charm.”

“Oh, a playboy, huh?”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve conquered hearts across Remnant.”

Now Clover couldn’t fight back the smile, the tiny chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “Oh, so should I be worried about competition?”

He was only half-joking, though.

Qrow smiled, embarrassment showing through. He looked like he was debating his next words, so Clover simply waited, stroking the back of Qrow’s hand. Finally, Qrow said, “I… couldn’t ever stay with anyone more than one night.”

It finally dawned on Clover. “Misfortune.”

Mutely, Qrow nodded.

“Have you ever wanted to?”

He nodded.

Clover had so many questions, but one burned particularly hot at the forefront of his mind. Should he ask it? Should he let it go?

Finally, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Qrow’s shoulder. “Were they in your team?”

“…Yeah.”

_One dead, one was straight. Both out of his reach. Okay._

Clover wouldn’t ask more. Instead, he let himself bask in the knowledge that for the first time, his Semblance had given him a silent opportunity, a concession that he never even dreamt he would have. His Semblance would allow him safety to stand by Qrow Branwen’s side when no one else could. While his heart ached for the loneliness and heartache that was engrained in every line on Qrow’s face, every scar on his body, Clover knew that his Semblance had finally, truly lived up to its name.


	16. with too many miles between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s an angsty chapter to celebrate two weeks of absolute chaos. Got hired to my dream job, got a greater placement than expected in my dream job, found a new apartment after a good 30 min of looking, aced final projects, and only had about five terrifyingly-long panic attacks. Woot.
> 
> Leave a comment if you're reading along :D

**…with too many miles between us**

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, James?”

“Qrow, please understand.”

_This wasn’t supposed to happen._

Clover had long lost track of the point of the conversation. It had begun as a comment to rebuild Mantle’s wall, to stall the completion of Amity’s control tower for just a little while to make sure the citizens were safe. Too many Grimm had been getting through the wall for anyone’s comfort. It was a fair argument, and Clover could see where it had come from; however, when he had first entered James’ office, he had initially expected to share a report, then file the paperwork for his team.

The anger etched in Qrow’s face and the weary resignation in James’ made it clear that the report would have to wait.

James stood, holding his arms behind his back. Clover watched him worriedly, tracing the fatigue clear in his stance as James wandered to the large, floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk. “Look, Qrow,” James said quietly, “I don’t want to be doing this either.”

Clover turned to Qrow, heart cracking as he saw the bitter snarl on Qrow’s lips, the anger in his eyes. “If you think I’ll side with you if do that,” Qrow hissed, “you’d best think again.”

 _Do what?_ He had truly lost what was happening. “Qrow-“ Clover said, stepping forward to lay a reassuring hand on Qrow’s arm. He had been able to calm Qrow down in the past- perhaps his touch would help him here, too-

But Qrow shrugged him off without a second glance, storming up to the desk and slamming his hands down onto it. “I’m not doing this, James. You protect your people. If you want to be better than Oz, then fucking _prove it._ Don’t let them die.”

 _The way people did at Beacon,_ Clover’s mind supplied.

It startled him, how that simple thought managed to clear up so much in his mind. He hadn’t ever really thought of how the Fall of Beacon had impacted Qrow, or how he must’ve felt watching the place that he loved fall to the darkness. Clover had seen Ruby and Yang and their friends crying every once in a while, lamenting the loss of their home when things became too overwhelming and they thought no one was looking- did Qrow also feel like that?

Is that why he looked so close to breaking, desperation adding an edge that no one could ignore?

As he thought on this, Qrow turned back to him at last. “Clover, you tell your fucking _idiot boss_ that this needs to change. We can’t just let the people down there suffer.”

Clover didn’t respond, simply looking back and forth between Qrow and James. How was he supposed to respond? Follow his commander, or appease his first love- how could he possibly choose-

_I love him._

The realization numbed him from head to toe. More words were exchanged between Qrow and James. Clover didn’t hear a word.

_…since when?_

But suddenly, Qrow snarled, “Fine,” and he stormed out of the office, leaving Clover and James behind.

James turned to look at Clover, sadness echoing in his eyes. “I… We’ll continue as planned, Clover. No need to change anything on our schedule,” the general said quietly.

Mutely, Clover nodded before beginning his report, trying to ignore the creeping understanding in his heart: that his feelings ran deeper than he could’ve ever realized; that his silence had been an admission, a wordless agreement with James; that he would follow James no matter what, and that was truth; and that the scathing look in Qrow’s eyes as he left had been full of betrayal and frustration and _loneliness,_ and Clover didn’t know how to take Qrow’s hand again if he couldn’t truly stand by his side.


	17. with no space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qrow and Clover are both such moods, honestly
> 
> Leave a comment if you're reading along :D

**…with no space between us**

Clover didn’t find Qrow until later that day, as the sky began to bloom with the sunset and as the light began to fade. He first checked the mess hall, then the barracks, then the officer’s mess just in case. He checked Team RWBY’s room and the lounge they often used with Team JNPR, but no one was there with the rookies out on their own missions. He even checked the gardens, the agricultural hideaway he had shown Qrow weeks earlier, and Dr. Polendina’s lab just in case Qrow had gone to tune up Harbinger.

No trace.

As he stepped foot into the large training room reserved for senior students and Huntsmen, however, he finally found the man he was looking for standing atop a large pillar, shattered targets torn to shreds on the ground, the barrel of Harbinger smoking and the scent of Dust and gunpowder in the air.

Wordlessly, he pulled out Kingfisher. Qrow turned, catching his eye- he slumped over, a bitter sadness in his eyes.

And then, the bout began.

As much as Clover didn’t want to admit it, Qrow Branwen was a better Huntsman than he. It was a little terrifying to realize; Clover Ebi was the leader of the Ace Operatives. He was supposed to be the best of the best, the cream of the crop, the man whom all Atlas Academy students dreamt of conquering one day.

Clover could not hold a candle to the ease with which Qrow knocked his opponents aside, the feline grace in his long limbs as he deftly darted around whatever battle arena he found himself within. At first arrival, Clover had thought Qrow’s battle prowess had dulled with age- but as the alcohol weaned out of Qrow’s system and the clear, haggard withdrawal finally began to ease, it became clear that Qrow at his prime was indomitable.

So, Harbinger’s blade locked with Kingfisher’s pole for the nth time, and even Clover had to wince and desperately hold his ground, muscles screaming in protest as he tried to overpower Qrow. He couldn’t. The entire bout was absolutely exhausting, his forehead dripping sweat down his temples, his body straining with every movement.

It was a little validating, however, to see Qrow’s hair slicked onto his forehead from sweat, his determined eyes flickering with fatigue as well. Clover wasn’t better than him, but he certainly was no pushover. It was better than Clover could’ve asked for.

The only reason he finally managed to gain the upper hand was likely his good fortune overpowering Qrow’s misfortune, their Semblances interacting in the most pathetic way. Clover fired a round at Qrow, distracting him, then used Kingfisher’s fishing line and knife-like hook to try and drag Harbinger away. Qrow dodged them all, but somehow, the large pillar behind Qrow decided to crack the moment Clover’s Dust round landed. The jagged tear circled all the way around the base of the column before toppling on top of an unsuspecting Qrow.

Clover’s feet moved before he even registered it, hands dropping Kingfisher and tackling Qrow to the ground, rolling away from the earth-shattering explosion of concrete and glass and Dust. He held Qrow’s face to his shoulder, body flush against his own, wincing as shards of glass and tile struck his cheek and bared arms.

He barely felt it. He just needed Qrow to be safe.

Once the dust had settled, he sat up, helping Qrow to his feet. Qrow’s face was ashen, his hand going to Clover’s marred face. Clover smiled. “It missed everything important, don’t worry,” he murmured, feeling his Aura already knitting together the split skin.

Qrow looked at him incredulously, his callused hand cupping Clover’s face relaxing in wry amazement. “That could’ve blinded you. You and your damn luck,” he muttered. There was no animosity in it, though.

Quietly, the duo retrieved their weapons before Clover called in a maintenance crew to fix up the training room. Then, the two wandered outside, enjoying amicable silence despite their exhaustion.

As he finally regained his breath, Clover murmured, “James is doing his best to help.”

“His best may not be what’s _right._ ”

Clover shook his head. “He’s weighed all the options, you know. This isn’t easy for him-“

“I didn’t ask if it was easy, I asked if it was _right,_ ” Qrow spat. There was no real animosity to it, however; just regret, frustration.

Clover didn’t know what to say. “…I’m loyal to James-”

“You should be loyal to the people you’re fighting for-”

“-and the people-“

“No, they’re not the second thought, that not good enough-“

“-and you.”

Qrow sighed, but when Clover pulled him into a shadowy nook away from prying eyes and gathered him up in his arms, relishing in the feel of Qrow’s warmth in contrast to the frigid air, he didn’t pull away. All he said was, “You can’t have it both ways, Clover.”

 _…I know._ He kissed Qrow, and that was that.


	18. that i wish we hadn't rambled about

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve gotten into a weird routine of writing my FG fics whenever I’m taking a break. They’re easy to mindlessly work on since everything’s just my ramblings that are poorly planned lol.
> 
> Leave a comment if you're reading along!

**…that i wish we hadn’t rambled about**

That night, Clover followed Qrow out onto the rooftop above one of the lower administration buildings. There was a small patio up there, seldom used thanks to the fact that the entire wing was generally inaccessible to students. Clover personally never cared for it much- it was only useful for stargazing, and before that one night spent looking up at the stars out on the tundra with Qrow, he had never really cared about the stars above Atlas.

Qrow leaned his elbows onto the railing surrounding the balcony, glancing up at the sky with dejected shoulders. Clover leaned back against the railing by his side; the view that night was indeed beautiful, but Clover had better things to focus on.

The silence was always amicable between Qrow and Clover, and for that, Clover would always be thankful; his teammates were constant chatterers, so to have some peaceful quiet, listening only to the wind blowing between the spires of the academy and the distant sounds of conversation and laughter filtering out through opened windows, was soothing for Clover.

He also didn’t mind the silence with Qrow because inevitably, he knew Qrow would begin to start speaking. His luck was never wrong.

“James doesn’t realize how many people he’s hurting in all this,” Qrow said at last, hanging his head low. “Ruby and Yang, and all the kiddos- they’re tearing themselves apart trying to figure out what to do.”

Clover chuckled despite himself, earning an immediate glare from Qrow. Gently, Clover explained, “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’ve got no qualms with your nieces and the rookies taking part in all of this with the Maidens, but you’re still trying to protect them from situations like this.” The decision of Mantle’s wall was sealed, but Qrow didn’t need to know that. It _did_ surprise him to hear that the rookies were worried about that decision, though.

Shame and regret filled Qrow’s face, and he hung his head once more. “I didn’t want to have to tell them anything,” he said. “But the Fall of Beacon happened and we didn’t have a choice. Besides, Ruby and her friends managed to worm their way into it long before any of us were actually aware of it.” His sigh was haggard, shaken. “I wish I had known. I wouldn’t have let it continue. They shouldn’t be doing this.”

 _That_ was something new. Clover hummed, encouraging Qrow onwards. So, Qrow began to speak- began to explain all of the mischief the rookies had gotten themselves into in relation to Salem’s followers long before the Fall. He began to explain how Ozpin had let it go every single time. “It’s scary how similar their situation was to my team,” he said dryly. “We always got into trouble with people who later ended up being in Salem’s faction. Honestly, if you copy and paste the kiddos into our misadventures, the plot would’ve been the same.” His face clouded, and he let out another heart-wrenchingly weary sigh. “Just, we got four years together. They barely got one.”

“It’s quite incredible that they’ve managed to do what they have despite such little training and experience.”

“They’ve done it on their own.” Qrow snorted. “Summer would’ve been so mad.”

Clover frowned, letting his head hang back. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, leaving the sea of stars sparkling over the ice fields in plain view. His eyes absentmindedly traced a line darting across the sky- a shooting star. His gaze lingered there while it disappeared, fading away into darkness.

He didn’t make a wish. His luck was enough.

Finally, he asked, “Why’s that?”

“Just… I don’t think she’d approve of them getting caught up in all this. _We_ were graduated when we really got into the thick of things. It’s not fair to them.”

“Is that why you’re so upset about James’-“

“Don’t,” Qrow barked, startling Clover. “I don’t want to think about that right now. I can fight him about it again later. Not now.”

Clover sagged against the railing, calm demeanor slipping away into compassion. _Gods,_ he wanted to hold Qrow. Instead, he simply said, “You see yourself in the kids. You miss your team.”

“…I miss being at Beacon with them, yeah.” Qrow straightened up, his head lolling back as he stretched. “Probably kind of pathetic to say. I’m well over the age to be missing school, but… you know.”

“You loved them.”

“Yeah.” Clover didn’t miss the bitter twist of his mouth as he said that. Qrow added, “Honestly, I don’t know how I’m the one who’s here. I’m not the one who could best help the kids- not at all.”

“Do you still try to call Taiyang?”

His ears turned pink. “He’d be better for his girls than me.”

“…Is that how you felt with Summer and Raven, too?”

Qrow rolled his eyes, elbowing Clover. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was clearly harder than if it had been a joke. “They both loved him. Ruby and Yang love him. He’s the most lovable idiot on the planet, so it’s fair.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his Scroll, eyes narrowing sadly at the lack of a signal next to Taiyang’s contact. “He made even Rae happy back then. Takes skill, let me tell you.”

Clover reached over and placed his hand over Qrow’s gently. “You say that as if you don’t make people happy.”

“I know what I am.”

Pain was beginning to show itself in every line in Qrow’s brow. It always did when he began to talk himself in circles like this, spiraling around the delusion that he wasn’t worth anything. How could Clover make him see that it wasn’t true? “Look, I’m happier with you here.”

The elder snorted. “Are you really? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you’ve looked pretty fucking miserable pretty damn often with me around.”

The hand underneath Clover’s trembled. It was icy, tense- gripping onto the railing as if life depended on it. He didn’t seem to be willing to open up. Not right then, at least.

 _Okay._ Clover pushed away from the railing, touched Qrow’s arm, and murmured, “I’ll be back.”

In around fifteen minutes, Clover returned to the rooftop. Qrow hadn’t moved, thankfully- but seeing Clover’s return certainly put a sour grimace on his face. Clover smiled, offering the cup in his hands to the man. “It’s for you.”

Qrow immediately backed away a few feet. “Clover, what the hell-“

“It’s just hot cocoa. Not liquor.” He pressed the cup into Qrow’s hands, smiling gently. “You’re freezing, Qrow. Drink.”

Qrow stared down at the chocolatey contents, disbelief etched on every feature. “What, do I look like Ruby?”

Clover chuckled. “I’d be concerned if I cared about you this much and you looked like Ruby. Much prefer you like this, thanks.”

His laugh only grew as the shock and concern on Qrow’s face mixed with his sheer discomfort and embarrassment. After a few moments of indignant spluttering, Qrow muttered, “I don’t get what you see in me, kid.”

“Remember what I said about taking compliments? You really need to work on it.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. He sipped his cocoa anyways, quickly downing the rest of the mug before it cooled too much in the icy air.

Clover smiled, leaning back onto the railing. “I’m not lying, you know. Never needed to. Telling the truth’s always been luckier.”

Qrow’s face clouded, and he sighed, looking back at the small mug in his hands. Clover could see how tightly he gripped onto the ceramic, his veins bulging through pale skin. “I’ve had to lie to everyone to keep them safe from my Semblance. You don’t know just how lucky you are, kid.”

He knew. “…It must’ve been lonely.”

When Clover pulled the mug out of Qrow’s hands and set it on the floor, he found that Qrow’s hands were trembling- but they were, in fact, warmer than before. The elder’s expression was hard, still focused on the sky, but Clover could tell the man was simply overwhelmed. He wasn’t pushing Clover away, wasn’t chastising him. Had no one ever acknowledged what Qrow had gone through before?

Smiling at that, he simply cupped Qrow’s cheek in his hand and kissed him, relishing in the fact that Qrow leaned into his touch, that Qrow felt at least remotely the same way- this was okay- this was safe- Qrow wanted him, too-

He tasted like chocolate, and he was warm, and for now, Clover was content with that.


	19. when you were scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m currently hitting a wall when it comes to a few stories (this one and my other FG/RWBY ones). It’s probably the existential dread building up knowing that I have *so many final projects due next week* and my brain can no longer process nor come up with fluff. However, I do need the himbo fluff to survive the projects… ‘tis a vicious cycle. If anyone wants to hmu here or on Discord with fun/cute ideas or just want to be a wall I can toss ideas onto that would be great lol

**…when you were scared**

The sudden gasp of pain and the body lurching in his grasp startled Clover into wakefulness. He jolted upright as well, one hand reaching out automatically for Kingfisher whilst the other landed upon Qrow’s back. “What is it?” he said, voice thick with sleep, frazzled and weary.

Qrow’s borrowed shirt was damp under his touch, the man’s gasping breaths enough to give away his fear. Immediately, Clover ignored Kingfisher and instead flicked on the lamp at his bedside, wincing against the light. His annoyance quickly shifted into worry, though, as he saw the drawn, tense, terrified expression on Qrow’s face. “Qrow, what happened?” he asked gently.

The elder man propped his elbows up onto bent knees and buried his hands in his hair, fingers clutching tightly, as if desperate to drag himself back to reality. He didn’t speak, instead focusing on regulating his breathing, panicked inhales and exhales only quickening despite his best efforts.

Clover pushed his long hair out of his eyes, gently wrapping an arm around Qrow’s shoulders. “Nightmares?”

Mutely, Qrow nodded.

Clover said, “Okay. Breath with me.” Then, he began to breathe in, out, in, out- sleepy mind reaching back into the far corners of his memory to latent training in his early days as a cadet on conflict de-escalation. “Hey. Just breathe.”

Finally, Qrow’s shoulders began to move up and down in time with Clover’s breathing, and eventually the man collapsed, laying his sweat-streaked brow on Clover’s shoulder. “I should go,” he muttered.

Clover shook his head instantly. _The amount of convincing it took for you to stay the night, that I wasn’t going to abandon you, that we were going to be okay, that I meant what I said-_

“What was it about?”

“…Ruby and Yang.”

 _Losing them. Okay._ “They’re safe, Qrow. And they’ll continue to be safe. They won’t go down that easily.”

“I’ve never spent this much time with them before,” Qrow whispered. Clover stroked damp hair absentmindedly, trying to ignore the ache in his heart as he realized just how much Qrow shook- and how much shame shone on his face. “I don’t know if things are going to get worse now because of that.”

“If anything does happen,” Clover mused aloud, “it won’t be your fault. After all, I’ve been with you even more than they have; that’s got to neutralize something, right?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “Something’s coming, kid. You’re all just too comfortable here to realize it.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so Clover continued gently, “Do you think your Semblance has actually hurt people before?”

“…Summer.”

 _He couldn’t save her, then. He was there, and he couldn’t save her. After all those years being her partner… how did he move on?_ Clover wouldn’t ask. Instead, he offered, “You won’t hurt me, Qrow. And you won’t hurt your nieces. We’re allies here.”

But Qrow never responded, instead shakily pulling himself up and out of Clover’s bed. He trudged to the bathroom to shower. Clover sighed, settling back against the headboard, content to read while he waited for the other man to calm himself down.

Next thing he knew, it was morning, he was cold from sitting up in his bed all night, and Qrow was gone.


	20. when we were the happiest we ever were

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done this story, wow. So weird to see it nearly completed after over a year of having these prompts saved on my computer.

**…when we were the happiest we ever were**

Qrow was a little off for the rest of the week, and Clover found no time to actually be alone with the man, despite his best efforts. Their missions were separate, with Qrow working more with Ruby and her teammates than with the Ace-Ops.

Clover tried not to let it get to him. If his disappointment showed, no one commented.

Still, as Friday night rolled around and the halls of Atlas in the Huntsmen’s wing grew noisier with off-duty soldiers getting ready to spend the night in Mantle to let off some steam, Clover found Qrow heading for the airship docks. However, he was alone; the tall man loped silently in the shadows, following the crowd at a distance. Clover simply stepped into the shadows and watched, curious as to what was going on.

In a few moments, the rookies wandered by, including Ruby and Yang. The group was talking about going dancing at a popular club. Clover smiled, memories of his own time sneaking out of Atlas on the weekends as a student flooding back into his mind; how long had it been since he’d even thought about doing something so simple?

As they boarded an airship, a dark shadow emerged from Qrow’s spot, his corvid form taking to the skies and following after the airship.

Clover immediately snorted, holding back the laughs which threatened to burst out. Qrow was alright with his nieces fighting monsters, but wasn’t alright when they’d be in remote proximity of adults and alcohol?

 _Well. Let’s see if he needs a hand._ With that, he jogged back to his quarters, changed into civilian attire, and headed to the docks himself.

The journey to the club was slightly different than normal thanks to eternal construction after repeated Grimm attacks. However, Clover was able to reach it in good time, paying cover and slipping into the building with ease. Immediately, the lights faded to nothing but neon strobes and a light-up floor, bodies moving in unison as they bounced. Clover’s head spun as the music pulsed through the air, bass shaking the foundations of the building.

He sighed. He felt a little too old to be there, if he was being honest with himself. The crowd was far too young and vibrant for him.

Glancing up, he looked around at the second-floor balcony. _Where’s the best spot to get a bird’s-eye-view…_

Just as expected, Qrow stood at the corner of the balcony, watching the crowd of dancers with a worried scowl. It didn’t take long for Clover to locate the stairs and approach the man properly. “You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he commented once he was close enough.

Qrow jumped two feet into the air, panicked eyes quickly growing shocked and flustered. “Wha- what the hell are you doing here?” Qrow hissed, stepping close so he wouldn’t have to yell over the music.

“Saw you and the kids leaving, and figured two chaperones were better than one,” he replied.

Qrow stared at him incredulously.

“Besides, you may be worried about Ruby-“

“She’s only seventeen,” Qrow groaned, looking back at the crowd.

“-but I figured someone should defend _you_ should anyone offer you alcohol, or try to steal your hand-“

Qrow shoved him lightly without even looking, but the smile was growing on his face.

Clover caught the hand, interlocking their fingers and pressing his shoulder against Qrow’s. “-and I am more than happy to do that.”

“Gods, you’re the _worst._ ”

Clover shrugged, grinning. “You know you like it,” he winked.

Qrow groaned in exasperation, but he clearly wasn’t actually annoyed- he squeezed Clover’s hand as his eyes fell back onto the crowd, honing in on a familiar blonde and brunette sitting at the bar. He narrowed his eyes. “Yang better be giving her juice.”

“Was Summer a lightweight?”

“She could smell alcohol and pass out.”

Clover flinched. “Alright, we’ll keep an eye out. I’m sure Yang’ll keep her safe.”

Qrow’s smile softened. “Yeah.”

A few minutes of amicable silence stretched out between them. As promised, when people approached them offering drinks, Clover quickly turned them down. Qrow shook his head wryly every time, but Clover could see even in the flashing strobe lights how his face was flushed, his hand warm in Clover’s touch.

The night carried on like that. The girls had made their way to the dance floor, and just as expected, Yang and Blake were easily protecting Ruby from all strangers in the crowd, whilst Weiss guarded their belongings at the corner of the bar while sipping a drink. Jaune, Nora and Ren had left a while earlier- judging by the excitement in Nora’s eyes as they walked out the door, the trio was probably heading out for a midnight snack before heading home. The rookies were always responsible and consistent, if nothing else. “This… it doesn’t feel like the world is ending.”

“It won’t,” Qrow said. “We can’t let it.”

Clover nodded. Qrow was absolutely right; Clover had dedicated his entire life to ensuring that the future was bright, and that Atlas would survive.

He knew that Qrow didn’t need to hear generic platitudes, though. “For the girls?”

The way Qrow’s eyes shone as he looked up at Clover, red filled with wonder and gratitude, was all the answer he needed. For the rest of the night, Clover allowed himself to dream; to dream of a life by Qrow’s side; going through domestic simplicity after routine missions; watching over Qrow’s nieces; and teaching the man that even beyond Ruby and Yang, there was indeed a future for Qrow, too.


	21. that i wasn't meant to hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've finished writing this entire story. Do y'all want it all at once, or once a day till it's done? Only 5 more chapters after this mind you. Let me know!

**…that i wasn’t meant to hear**

Clover’s knuckles stopped a hairsbreadth away from the door as Qrow’s voice filtered through the thick mahogany. “James-“

“You seem to be doing alright, Qrow. I wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you.” James’ voice was nothing if not sincere, his earnestness filtering through the door.

Clover frowned, weighing his options. Should he step in? He certainly would need to tell the general that his office was not as soundproof as previously believed- perhaps there was a crack in the door somewhere, something tiny that no one had noticed.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Qrow said defensively, catching Clover’s attention again.

Footsteps. “You’re not drinking anymore. Ruby told me you’d gone clean. Even Winter has noticed the difference in your behaviour. As your friend, I wanted to make sure you understood just how amazing it is that you’ve done this. It’s not an easy task, and I’m proud to call you my friend.”

Shuffling back- hesitant, confused. “Um… are you okay? This doesn’t seem like you, Jimmy.“

“I mean it, Qrow. You’ve done a great job. You look healthier, too. Taiyang would be happy to see you doing well like this.”

A pause, a sigh. A rueful chuckle. “Yeah. Thanks, James.” The words were muffled- a hug?

“I guess I should thank Clover for that too, huh?” The words were teasing, light.

“Wha- what’re you talking about-“ Qrow scoffed.

Clover felt his ears burn like never before, heart racing in his chest as James laughed. “I know what happens in my own school, Qrow. It’s fine! Honestly, I’m glad.”

“For what?”

The amount of warmth in James’ voice was almost a little unnerving; he was usually nothing more than the consummate professional, if overly empathetic, with Clover. “That he’s found someone to cherish, and that you’re finally letting someone cherish you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Okay, okay. I don’t need details.” A pause, a noise of disgust. “Actually, spare me details.”

“ _Brothers_ , James, that’s-“ Indignant spluttering. “Don’t you have a report or something to give?!”

“Fine.” A small chuckle, footsteps receding farther away. A squeak of a chair. “Do let me know if you two want to move your belongings to his barracks, okay? It might honestly be more discrete than your barracks just being empty constantly. Anytime I send Penny to find you with a message, she never can.”

“You’ve sent Penny after me?”

A snort. “Exactly.”

“Gods, fine.” An annoyed huff, then a softer sigh. “You… don’t mind, though?”

“No. I want you to be happy, Qrow. We’re friends, right?”

“…Yeah. Thanks.”

“You look good together, you know.”

“…Yeah. He’s… yeah.”

Clover stood at that door for a few more minutes before knocking, mind racing and heart pounding out of his chest. How could he possibly move? How could he break this one moment, this one scene- the sound of Qrow’s clumsy laughter, so sweet he could picture the smile on his lips as he spoke about _Clover?_

And when he finally knocked on the door and entered, ready to give an update on Amity, and Qrow’s face grew flushed at the sight of him, Clover knew what he had to do.


	22. when we were on top of the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I'll just post the rest of the chapters throughout the day. Perhaps the hits of dopamine from all your comments will inspire me to finish the giant project I have due tonight. Smh dang university...
> 
> If you want to go see how I imagined James and Team STRQ's first meetings/missions together, go read my fic [Scribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168329)! It's an Ironwitch (or as I call it, Goodwood) fic :D
> 
> Also, flee now, all children who dare to enter here
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!

**…when we were on top of the world**

"I heard what you said to James the other day. Before I came to give my report."

Qrow's face flushed beet-red, but he didn't respond.

"I should've come in sooner. I'm sorry for eavesdropping." Flashing Qrow a wry smile, he added, "But hey- we've identified a security risk, and now they're soundproofing the office again. Turns out there was a bit of wear and tear on the door, and we missed the gap. I'm just glad no one else found it."

The elder still didn't respond, fingers nervously tapping on the coffee table, each vibration sending ripples through the untouched glass of water in front of him.

Clover sighed, watching Qrow's nervousness with weary warmth. "I didn't realize you were so close- that he'd talk about _us,_ " he said at last. "You go back a long ways, huh?"

"We've been on dozens- no, probably hundreds of missions together. It's been over twenty years now."

_Just as long as I've admired you._

But as always, Qrow's worry left him quiet and brooding, pent-up frustration twisting his expression into one of restrained agony.

Clover reached out, pressing his finger against the wrinkles between Qrow's brows. The man's face immediately relaxed, eyes widening in confusion as he momentarily stopped in his tracks. "You're wasting a pretty face with all that pouting," Clover teased lightly.

The deadpan stare Qrow sent back at him made Clover chuckle, leaning onto the table on his elbows, his chin in his hands, looking up at Qrow tenderly. "I mean it," he breathed.

Despite it all, Qrow smiled back, tension easing from his shoulders, fingers ceasing their tapping on the table. "Shut up, lucky charm," he said. "Why'd you call me up here, anyways?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to confuse Penny some more-"

The blush only intensified on Qrow's face, and Clover laughed louder, feeling more at ease than he had in _years._ "I'm _kidding._ " He took Qrow's hand in his. "Is it so weird to want to spend time with you?"

"We have a mission tomorrow," Qrow replied gruffly.

"And all my alarms are set. I'll wake you up, don't worry."

Qrow rolled his eyes, looking out of the window at the waxing moon to avoid eye contact with Clover. "Oh, so you just _assume-_ "

"No. But I'm hopeful."

Qrow didn't respond. Clover didn't expect him to. The elder always had a battle going on inside, his anxiety too much to quiet on command. It was alright, though; Clover had nothing but time, and he was happy to spend it with Qrow.

Finally, Qrow looked back at Clover, a wry, exasperated smile on his face. "You really don't know when to quit, huh?"

"I told you," Clover muttered, tapping the brooch on his chest- his four-leaf clover pin- with a wink. "I liked my chances. Besides," he added, standing up and walking to Qrow's chair, "I don't see the point in quitting when there's nothing I've ever wanted more."

"Dammit, kid…"

"What? Too much?"

Qrow sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Clover's stomach. "Oh, you're just realizing it? Goddamned good luck charm…"

Clover grinned. "Sorry, you old crow."

But Qrow didn't pull away, instead simply raising his chin to look up at Clover. His normally world-weary eyes looked wide and plaintiff, worry pressing his lips together into a thin line. "You're sure about this?"

Clover smiled. "I'll bring you good luck as long as you'll let me, Qrow."

When Qrow's face split into a tiny, hopeful smile, Clover leaned in, and Qrow didn't pull away. He had been patient for months, and now, Qrow wasn't running away anymore. "Stay," he whispered.

"Okay."

That night, Clover finally saw it- the dancing figure he'd seen onscreen in his youth lay in his arms, stripped bare and exposed. The same scars that littered his body became sites of worship. Every touch was sacred, every breath and every look fleeting, and Clover absorbed it all, his sobriety vanishing into a delirium, leaving him too heady to truly take it all in.

Fingers intertwined, lips following suit. Hair fell into green and red eyes, black and grey and dun brown sweat-streaked. Pale skin grew speckled, bruised spots appearing, then healing instantly as sparks of red and turquoise light shimmered in their wake, the only lights in the room. Knees lifted, ankles locking around hips, cries of discomfort and want muffled in connected mouths.

And in the morning, when Clover opened up his eyes, he saw Qrow looking back at him, red eyes barely visible thanks to the shy, sleepy smile on his face. "Hey, Mr. Good-luck-charm," he rasped, his callused fingers tracing Clover's cheek, the touch clumsy and unguarded. He had stayed.

And Clover was happy.


	23. after it was over

**…after it was over**

The massacre at Robyn Hill’s party; the increased tension around Mantle and Atlas; the quietude of the city with the placement of martial law; the distrust echoing in everyone’s eyes-

Clover didn’t know what to do. None of this should have happened, and they had taken all precautions to avoid things ever escalating to even remotely similar heights. Yet, there they were- allies arguing about how best to protect an already divided people, with even more wrenches getting thrown into the mix at every turn.

So, as always, he fell back on his orders. James’ goal was clear. He was going to protect his people no matter what the cost. If the methods had to be harsher than what was ideal, so be it. Their mission was not to be disrupted.

Qrow wasn’t having it. A few nights into the announcement of martial law upon the city of Mantle to ensure that no more citizens were murdered in the dead of night, Clover found Qrow at his doorstep. The sight of Qrow should’ve brought nothing but joy.

Instead, with Qrow pushing past him angrily, all Clover could do was sigh and close the door behind him. “Before you say anything, Qrow,” he said, “I will follow James to the end. Anything otherwise is insubordination.” He had been practicing the words all day; yet, they still felt hollow in his mouth, and he _hated_ how fragile his voice sounded.

“What, so if James told you to jump off a fucking cliff, you’d do it?”

“Qrow-“

“You would.”

“Stop it.”

Clover winced as he heard the words muttered underneath Qrow’s breath- _a dog of Atlas-_ but he couldn’t refute it. If loyalty made him a dog, then let it be so.

Qrow sat down on the edge of his bed, running his fingers through hair that had clearly been mussed over and over again that day due to worry. “You say that, but nothing about this is right,” he spat. “Look- Tyrian Callows is here. He tried to kidnap Ruby in Anima- hell, he almost _killed_ me in Anima, and I have no doubts that he’s managed to get here if Salem’s targeting this place.” He looked up at Clover, eyes pleading. “If James won’t listen to me, he’ll listen to you and Winter. He doesn’t know who to trust but he trusts _you._ If he doesn’t announce that Tyrian’s the one who did it-“

“What would that accomplish, Qrow?” Clover dragged one of the chairs by the coffee table over to sit in front of Qrow, looking up into the man’s face. “What? Telling people there’s a serial killer on the loose? Are the peoples’ faith going to be restored in Penny so easily? Are you saying it for Ruby’s sake, so she won’t suffer seeing her friend-“

“I’m saying it ‘cause I’m fucking _right,_ ” Qrow snarled.

Clover didn’t respond. “I don’t think there’s a proper answer,” he finally admitted. “This… none of this should be happening.”

After a moment, Qrow’s anger seemed to dissipate. He looked absolutely exhausted- even more so than when he had been first fighting through his withdrawal. “I know.”

“We’re allies, right?”

Mutely, Qrow looked out of the window, face twisted, teeth biting down on an already-bitten lip.

Clover gathered up Qrow’s hands in his, massaging the tense muscles in his palms, his wrists, his forearms. The tender touch made Qrow’s cheeks turn pink in the pale light, but the man didn’t pull away, allowing Clover to continue the gentle ministrations- the least he could do to calm the man down, to prevent his anxiety from rising too much. Humming, Clover asked, “Did you see the briefing for the party tomorrow?”

“Fuckin’ Schnees.”

Clover snorted. He’d never admit it, but he couldn’t agree more- Winter, and thankfully Weiss as well, were good apples in a rotten bunch. He respected Winter. He had also heard the way Jacques Schnee talked about her. “We’ll have to be ready for anything.”

“Yeah.”

“But we won’t have any work to do in the morning before that- only a few things to set up. Normal patrols are going to be handled by those not attending the function. So, you should stay the night.”

Qrow shook his head, although his face softened at the invitation. “We have work we should be doing. Hell, I should be with Ruby right now.”

“Your niece has an entire team with her right now,” Clover replied. “She’s got people taking care of her.”

“So?”

_You don’t have a team to look out for you. Team STRQ may have been here once, but it’s been twenty years, and no reminiscing is going to take care of you now- not after everything that’s happened to all of you. Not with everything you’ve gone through._

But he couldn’t say that. “So I’m going to take care of you.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but Clover’s bed was warm that night, and Qrow was safe by his side till dawn.


	24. against our mouths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh two more left

**…against our mouths**

Their kiss was just like the chaos surrounding them- frenzied, hungry, hidden in shadow and desperate for reprieve, for air, for rest.

Robyn was up ahead, waiting for signs of Tyrian Callows. “We need to focus,” Qrow complained as they parted again, gasping for air.

Clover kissed him regardless. Something was coming; something ominous was lurking in his heart, a foreboding sense that he had never felt in his entire life washing over him.

It was _dread._

Never had he felt his own Aura to so wholly reject the situation at hand. It was as if his Semblance itself was telling him that there was no hope.

The only question was, what would Clover be losing?

So, as Mantle burned around them, Grimm invading the streets and civilians screaming into the smoky night as they desperately ran towards escape pods, their comrades fighting for their lives and their loved ones trying to retain any piece of their sanity, Clover continued to kiss Qrow, holding the man’s body flush against his own in the shadows. He moved against Qrow’s lips, the words he’d always wanted to say to the man falling off his tongue into their joined mouths. It was just for a little while. He just needed Qrow for a little while longer, to imprint his taste, touch, scent into his memory forever.

Because if even his luck couldn’t save them- if his Semblance couldn’t act as a buffer- then what would Qrow’s misfortune do to him?


	25. as the dust settled

**…as the dust settled**

The space between them had never felt so wide.

His knees could have knocked into Qrow’s if he sat forward on the bench of the tiny prison transport carrier. His hands could’ve reached out for Qrow’s. His lips could have found their counterparts, just as they had only a few minutes, hours, days before.

The space lingered on.

Tyrian chattered and snickered by his side, threatening them and trying to rile up the trio who had taken him down. The impact was only felt on Robyn, the young woman growing more and more agitated with every word. Nothing affected Clover, though- not when his eyes were transfixed on Qrow’s hands reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small photograph.

He knew it was Team STRQ. He also knew that in his bedroom lay a gift he had bought for Qrow weeks earlier, having been unable to find a moment to give it to the man. It wasn’t anything special, after all- just a small photo carrier, big enough to protect the aged, creased picture that perpetually lived in Qrow’s pocket. The carrier unfolded, too, holding space for another image.

Ruby had smiled and given him her blessings when she gave him a picture of herself and Yang on either side of Qrow to put into that extra space. “You better be good to him, Clover,” she had said, all sage smiles and sparkling silver eyes, just like her mother.

It was uncanny how much camaraderie Clover felt for Ruby in that moment, thanks to her channeling a woman Clover had never actually met. It felt like Summer, the one woman who Qrow had always quietly loved, had given him her blessings, too.

But then, their journey was interrupted by a call from Ruby, his Scroll beeped, and those same faces Clover had grown to cherish over the course of the past months flashed onscreen underneath a giant _WANTED_ sign.

Qrow was now a fugitive, and James’ worst fears were coming true.

The amount of heartache and betrayal in Qrow’s eyes made him want to vomit. Tyrian and Robyn be damned- if he could have, he would’ve launched himself at Qrow, gathering the man up in his arms and holding him, promising nothing but his undying fealty to the one creature who had stolen his heart since he was a boy.

But in the face of orders from _James,_ Clover had no choice.

“Clover…” Qrow breathed, gripping the hilt of Harbinger as Clover stood.

“Qrow,” he began keeping his voice steady, “you should know that I’ve been asked to bring you in.”

Tyrian cackled, clapping despite his bound hands, “A free ride _and_ a show!”

Clover sighed, hanging his head. “There’s also an alert out for Team RWBY’s arrest.”

That was the trigger- the moment when everything fell apart. When Clover brought himself to look into Qrow’s eyes, all he saw was absolute horror, shame… betrayal. “What? Has James lost his mind!?”

Clover swallowed.

Qrow Branwen was a man of undying loyalty to his team. Despite losing his comrades, despite all of the trauma and the heartbreak and the loneliness, he had always upheld his duty by them. But Qrow had never promised to stand by Clover’s side; the ones who Qrow had always sworn to protect in Atlas had always been Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long.

_We’re allies._

They weren’t.

It was clear where their loyalties lay.

And as a fight between them all broke out in the carbo bay of that tiny transport vessel, Clover had to wonder whether those blissful nights spent in Qrow’s arms had been nothing more than a hallucination- nothing more than the delusions of a man who, in the face of the one person he had loved unequivocally all his life, could never, ever be enough.


	26. in your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a more detailed version of these events, I’d highly recommend you checking out my fic [Cameo Lover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844532) (more canon-compliant, canon-focused V7 Clover-centric FG).

**…in your arms**

It was cold. Qrow was crying. The sun was rising, and a new day was about to begin.

_I guess my Semblance was right, after all._

Clover found that he didn’t mind, however- perhaps that was due to some peaceful understanding he had managed to reach in the last few moments with his ribcage shattered, his heart punctured and lungs collapsing. Perhaps it was due to the ice numbing the pain on his back, the frozen tundra keeping him safe and protected, his homeland dulling his senses for one last time.

The only thing that did bother him was Qrow’s expression. He couldn’t hear what Qrow was saying very well, but those lips that had been on his less than an hour before were split and bleeding, bitten and broken. He was gasping and choking, his hands scrabbling for Clover’s, tears falling onto Clover’s cheek. Gods, how Clover wanted to wipe those tears away, pushing that wrinkle that filled the space between those brows until it smoothed out.

Clover was dying. He understood that. His Aura had long-since flickered out, leaving him devoid of any fighting chance.

A bloodied Harbinger lay at the wayside, its red-soaked blade the only evidence of the weapon used to tear Clover’s heart into pieces. Clover could have laughed, had he the strength- if he had been destined to die by Qrow’s blade, then why couldn’t fate even allow Qrow to have been the one _wielding_ it?

 _Qrow never would have been able to kill me,_ he realized distantly. It had to have been Tyrian, the callous murderer escaping into the dawn. No man who grieved over Clover’s blurring vision and stilling bones this much could have ever killed him- not truly.

That realization almost lit something back up in Clover’s heart. Almost. Qrow hadn’t been lying when he had given himself up to Clover in body and heart. Qrow hadn’t been lying when he had called Clover his good luck charm, either. After all, Qrow could have easily been the one to die tonight.

But it would hurt Qrow more to lose someone else, just like everyone in Team STRQ- just like everyone else Qrow had ever loved. Perhaps it really had been Qrow’s misfortune all along.

_He loved me. Qrow Branwen loved me._

That thought seared itself into his mind as his vision turned grey. It was an easy thought to focus on, images springing to mind- Clover sitting in front of the CCTS screen, watching his favourite team compete. Clover lying next to his favourite person, tucked in his bed, wrapped up in his arms.

It made him smile. He wanted Qrow to see him smile, even if it must’ve been hard for Qrow to see through all of those tears. Clover wasn’t crying, though, those words easing him down gently into slumber. _He loved me. He loved me. He loves me-_

And the new day began.

_**-fin-** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally done! It's nice to get these prompts finally over and done with in my 'completed' folder after over a year of wondering what to do with them!
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this fic! Check out some of my other works if you’d like more Fair Game: 
> 
> [ Moonshine Smile ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138832) (Modern AU with Uncle Qrow & baby!Ruby fluff)  
> [ Way Off Track ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604045) (Modern AU with thirsty!Clover and universityprofessor!Qrow on public transit)  
> [ jigsaws and pieces we made to fit ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24748414) (Domestic V7 fluff about Duncle!Qrow and his boyfriend and 8 idiot kids)  
> [ Home to Roost ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785509) (Modern AU with editor!Clover and writer!Qrow)
> 
> I am still just absolutely baffled by the amount of engagement I've gotten in my FairGame fics since my work isn’t very well-known! If you're curious, check out my other fics! I've got plenty of RWBY :D
> 
> If you want to see more of Qrow in canon, check out my [Qrow Branwen-Centric Fic series!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1448095)
> 
> Here are [both canon-compliant fics and complete AUs](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690948) for RWBY. If you're more of a Pyrrha/Team JNPR fan, have fun with [this super long series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1448071). 
> 
> Cheers for reading, y'all! See you in my other fics, and let me know what you thought of this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think :D


End file.
